


The Restricted Section

by JosephineStone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4783757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco can’t admit to himself that Potter following him back into the Restricted Section was a wet-dream and a nightmare all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Restricted Section

Draco wasn’t up to something as far as Harry knew, but he still watched him out of habit. For most of the year Draco had been predictable to the point of boring. The only thing changing in his daily routine were his food choices at meals. That was, until one morning when Harry was supposed to be working on his Potions Essay in the library, Draco snuck into the Restricted Section.  
  
Okay, well, he didn’t really sneak. He had a pass and all, but everyone acted a little off when they went into the Restricted Section; looking over their shoulders to see who saw them slip through the door, on tip-toe as if the floor would give away their path, holding their breath as though the books might attack them. Harry was at the door, catching it before it closed behind Draco, without remember making the decision to follow him, because when it came to following Draco he didn’t need to think about it anymore.  
  
Harry caught the door behind him to make sure it didn’t slam closed, but Draco had already stopped his pursuit of whatever book he’d been looking for and was staring at him. It was a shocked look instead of one of his usual glares or looks of contempt. Harry froze unsure of what to say or if he should say anything.  
  
With no other reason to be back there, Harry pretended to be looking for a book. He turned to the opposite selves that Draco was facing and began reading titles. What wouldn’t look too suspicious? Potions, probably. It’s what he was working on after all.  
  
It occurred to Harry that Draco had no idea what Harry was looking for, so Harry turned around to scan the books a little away from Draco. He could claim he was after whatever was near them, if he needed to. Except when he turned, it startled Draco, who jumped back away from the shelf as if it had burned him. Which, remembering his last visit to this section, was actually quite possible.  
  
‘What are you doing?’ Draco hissed.  
  
Harry smirked at Draco’s quickly reddening face. ‘Looking for a book, obviously.’  
  
‘You couldn’t have waited a few minutes—’  
  
‘Why _should_ I?’ Harry asked. ‘Do you own this section?’  
  
Hermione would say he was being childish.  
  
‘There is hardly enough room back here for one person,’ Draco pointed out.  
  
Harry looked away as Draco leaned just slightly closer to Harry, showing how little room there had been between them to begin with.  
  
‘Or is this what you were hoping for?’ He already had his book hidden under his arm, and moved to pass Harry.  
  
Luckily, Hermione wasn’t there.  
  
Harry shoved Draco and his back slammed against the bookshelf. Draco pushed back, but Harry caught himself before he hit the shelf on the other side. Harry grabbed Draco’s right wrist and held back his arm, getting one hit in his face before Draco kneed him between his legs, and then Harry went down to his knees. Draco freed his wrist and backed away from Harry. But Harry didn’t let Draco get too far away before he was up, despite still being in pain, and shoved Draco against the shelf, again. A few books were knocked loose that time, and Draco dropped the book he was holding. They came tumbling down on their heads, and they both stopped fighting and stared at each other listening for footsteps.  
  
Once they were certain Madam Pince wasn’t on her way to kick them out of the library, Harry laughed in relief, and Draco stooped to pick up the fallen books. Luckily, none of them were screaming. Harry caught the title of the last one Draco went to put away and laughed again.  
  
‘ _Slytherin Green_ , Draco? Is that what you came back here for?’  
  
‘No!’ But the look on Draco’s face suggested otherwise.  
  
‘Why’s it in the Restricted Section, anyway?’ Harry flipped the cover opened to look through it, while Draco still held it. ‘What’s it even about?’  
  
But Draco had tried to keep Harry from opening it, so in the struggle it fell to the floor. And instead of it opening at the cover page, it opened in the middle. Harry didn’t need to read it, the pictures were perfectly clear—two men with one on the lap of the other, clearly enjoying themselves—and he felt a blush cover his face. He shouldn’t have looked up to see the expression on Draco’s face—his cheeks were pink, his eyes were closed, and it looked like he was gritting his teeth—because it only made the erection that was slowly forming in his pants from seeing the picture harder.  
  
‘I should go,’ Harry said, and then forgetting that he was supposed to be pretending to get a book, he left Draco there—most likely glaring at the back of his head, as he turned it.  
  


#

  
  
The last thing Harry expected—after a relatively normal day far away from anything dangerous, they didn’t even have Potions that day—was to be spending his evening in the infirmary. Harry had a tingling sensation in his arm all day, but that wasn’t why he was there. Well, it _was_ , but he hadn’t taken himself there for it. It hadn’t worried him too much, until Madam Pomfrey told him he should.  
  
Draco fainted during dinner.  
  
Once he came to and told them his symptoms—and Harry assumed about their encounter in the Restricted Section—they’d sent someone to fetch Harry.  
  
‘Books are in the Restricted Section for a reason,’ Pomfrey said as she cast spell after spell on them trying to undo the curse the book had placed on them.  
  
‘I had a pass,’ Draco said, ‘and I tried to stop him from opening it.’  
  
She had already got the book from Draco before Harry had arrived, and she kept going back and forth between looking at it and muttering and then looking at them.  
  
‘It’s probably not that big of a deal,’ Harry said. ‘My arm has been fine since I’ve been here, and—’ Harry glanced at Draco. ‘Draco’s awake again; he looks—’ Harry was having trouble coming up with a word he felt comfortable saying in front of a teacher.  
  
Then Draco was glaring at him as though he could read his thoughts. ‘That’s not a _good_ sign, Potter, considering . . .’ Draco gestured toward the book again, and Harry couldn’t help but picture the pages the book had fallen opened on earlier that day. Draco’s cheeks were spotted with pink as Harry felt his neck warm up.  
  
Pomfrey was still muttering to herself, and then sighed:  
  
‘You’re bonded—’  
  
‘What?’ Harry yelled.  
  
‘If you’d let me finish . . . you’re bonded to the book, not just each other.’ She gave Harry a pointed look. ‘You have to go through the book together to break the curse, but after that—’  
  
‘If we survive that,’ Draco muttered.  
  
Pomfrey gave him a stern look. ‘You’d be fine and completely free of each other.’ In a calmer tone she continued, ‘Of course, I have no intention of making you do that: I’ll inform the headmaster we must send for a Curse Breaker, but in the meantime the two of you should remain close during your free time, and if it helps sit with each other in the classes you share. I have no way of knowing how long it will give you.’  
  
She handed the book back to Draco who quickly stashed it in his bag, before she sent them off to their separate beds.  
  
They walked next to each other until they came to the staircases. Harry needed to go up and Draco down, and they both hesitated. Harry brushed the back of Draco’s hand with his own to suggest he should go first. He was the one who’d passed out after all. Then Harry could watch him and run to help him if something happened as soon as they left each other’s side.  
  
Draco seemed to freeze at the contact, but he didn’t look Harry’s way.  
  
‘You go first,’ Harry said, since his silent gesture had failed.  
  
After beat, Draco nodded and slowly walked down the stairs as Harry watched his retreating back. Harry didn’t feel anything in his arm, even after he could no longer see Draco. So he headed upstairs to his own bed.  
  
Harry thought about the touch and wondered how long the curse would be satisfied with such a slight gesture; a Curse Breaker would be there in no time—possibly the next day—and they’d be free of it.  
  


#

  
  
In the morning, Harry’s head pounded, and his limbs were slow to follow his commands. He stumbled out of bed and to the toilets; he knew it was because Draco was so far away.  
  
Once he saw Draco at breakfast some of the pressure left his head, but since they were on the opposite sides of the Great Hall it wasn’t enough for Harry to be able to concentrate on any of the conversations around him. Luckily, they shared their first morning class together. It was History of Magic. Harry had already decided that if he had to be the bigger person and sit with Draco, then he would. Only to find that Draco had stolen Hermione’s seat and was waiting for him. He must have been in a lot of pain as well.  
  
Harry shrugged at Hermione as he took his usual seat.  
  
Professor Binns was a boring as ever, and Draco kept pinching the back of Harry’s hand when he was close to dozing off. The worst part was that Harry couldn’t figure out whether he should be thankful or angry with Draco for it. He needed to stay awake. As well as every time Draco’s fingers brushed against his hand—whether they caused pain or not—his head became lighter and his mind more focused.  
  
Being able to focus, however, didn’t make Professor Binns any less boring. Harry’s mind still wandered, and his thoughts kept returning to the book. Eventually he scribbled a note to Draco and pushed it toward him, then he trailed a finger gently against the back of Draco’s hand to get his attention; Draco was somehow able to be deeply involved in taking notes.  
  
Draco glanced at the note and then glared at Harry.  
  
_Why Slytherin Green?_  
  
Harry thought the note was explanation enough. The title made no sense based on what was inside the book. Though, perhaps that had been the point: a plain title wouldn’t cause suspicion. Draco jotted down that he’d explain later and returned to his note taking. He even had perfect handwriting. Sometimes Harry was exhausted just looking at Draco; he really needed to learn how to take a break.  
  
After class, Harry waited for Draco before he left the classroom, so they could walk out together. Draco brushed against him as he passed Harry on their way to the door, and then their hands kept hitting each other as they walked down the hall. They were innocent things. Innocent things that probably happened with Ron and Hermione every day, but Harry noticed every accidental touch with Draco.  
  
‘Green is the colour of witchcraft, and it is speculated that is _why_ Slytherin chose it as his house colour.’  
  
‘I knew that—’ Although, Harry had not known that. ‘But what does Slytherin or green have to do with . . .’  
  
‘Homosexuality?’ Draco smirked at him. ‘Gay sex?’  
  
Harry glared in response.  
  
‘Homosexuals were persecuted along with wizards, and green was commonly associated with both homosexuals and wizards. _I_ think that Slytherin had a completely different reason for choosing green as one of his house colours. And apparently so did the author of the book.’  
  
‘Is that why you were checking it out: you’re studying conspiracy theories about Slytherin?’  
  
Draco’s cheeks turned pink and Harry was sure he already knew that answer no matter what Draco said, but surprisingly he told the truth, ‘No, that’s just my speculation on the title.’  
  
The back of their hands were touching again, and Harry quickly pulled away.  
  
Draco sighed. ‘Although, it seems to be forcing us through it anyway: we need to read it—for the curse.’  
  
‘What do you mean forcing us?’ Harry asked.  
  
He rolled his eyes. ‘Do pretend you haven’t noticed—and you’re doing it again. Do you lean against your friends as much as you have on me today?’  
  
Harry backed away again.  
  
‘I’d already read parts of chapter one.’  
  
‘Oh?’ Harry couldn’t help but to be interested in what parts Draco had read. ‘And?’  
  
‘It’s all about discrete touching.’ Draco demonstrated what he meant by having their fingers brush against each other again, but only when they were hidden by their robes as they walked. No one they were passing noticed, but Harry had trouble keeping the information from showing all over his face.  
  
‘Oh.’  
  
They were quiet until they made it outside as they were on their way to the greenhouses. Neither Hermione nor Ron took Herbology, so Harry normally worked with Neville. Draco worked with Pansy, and she must have been told all about what had happened because she was already sitting next to Neville when they made their way in.  
  
Draco nodded at her and came to sit next to her. Neville moved so that Harry could be next to Draco, and they all could keep their regular partners.  
  
The transition was seamless and it made Harry smile to himself. Neville was good at guiding Harry through Herbology, so Harry spent the time trying to feel the effects of the curse. How many times did he accidently touch Draco without thinking about? How did brushing against him on purpose feel as opposed to the times it was an accident? Everything was so subtle that had Harry not known about the curse, he wouldn’t notice it was there. Until Harry tried to brush dirt off Draco’s face.  
  
It was certainly something he’d never have attempted before.  
  
His widened eyes met Draco’s and then he quickly pulled away. The curse might get to them before the Curse Breaker could—but, it was just a little touching.  
  
When they left the greenhouses, Harry pulled on Draco’s sleeve to get him to hang back. Once all the other students moved on a head, Harry blurted, ‘The beginning of the book, can’t be that bad.’  
  
‘So?’  
  
‘Why don’t we just—’  
  
‘You want to read the book?’  
  
‘You said yourself that the curse is making us do it anyway,’ Harry said. ‘Come to think of it—it could be because you read it.’  
  
Draco glared at the ground.  
  
‘How bad could it be?’  
  
‘Alright, I get it.’ Draco closed his eyes and his breath came out harsh and angry. ‘Let’s just see how dinner goes if it gets worse then we can met somewhere afterwards.’  
  
‘Where?’  
  


#

  
  
Harry wasn’t sure if the Room of Requirement even still worked after the fire during the Battle at Hogwarts. And though Harry had a headache as well as he saw Draco spill his drink all over his food during dinner, he wasn’t sure if Draco would be there. He could be more stubborn than Harry.  
  
Turning the corner Harry saw him. He leaned against the wall half way down the corridor, with his head hanging in defeat and his eyes closed. The only thing with him was the book. Had he gotten as rotten sleep and Harry had the night before? Or worse? He was the one who had fainted. Could the curse be affecting him more because he was the one holding the book?  
  
Although Harry didn’t consider himself a stealth walker, Draco didn’t look up as he approached. The hallway was so quiet that his own footsteps seemed like thunder echoing off the walls.  
  
Stopping in front of Draco, Harry swallowed as he prepared to ask what Draco was doing, but Draco spoke first.  
  
‘I didn’t know what to ask for.’  
  
The room.  
  
‘Some place private,’ Harry said as though it was obvious, because that was the reason that Draco had picked it in the first place. But all sorts of images flew Harry’s mind then of what the room considered private. They’d need someplace to sit but bed was out of the question. To his knowledge, Draco had never used the room for anything other than the Room of Hidden Things—and that was a bad idea for many reasons.  
  
Draco nodded and pushed off the wall.  
  
The walked up and down the hall trying to imagine a private place that wasn’t too private the seven times that was required. At the count of seven Harry held his breath for the last few steps, until a door appeared just a few metres in front of them.  
  
Harry went first.  
  
Light poured out of the room: it was small and had a few seating options and thankfully no bed.  
  
After Draco stepped in behind him, the door closed and a few moments later he heard Draco exhale. It looked completely different from the last time—or any other time for that matter—that either of them had seen it, but it was still the room.  
  
‘Sofa or floor?’ Harry asked.  
  
‘Sofa.’  
  
Harry nodded and then again was the first to move. Because Draco was so hesitant, Harry took the book from his lap after he sat down and opened the cover for himself. There was nothing of interest on the first few pages so he quickly flipped past them to chapter one and started reading.  
  
It wasn’t an old book.  
  
Reading it quietly to himself, Harry could feel Draco’s eyes on him so he looked up. ‘Okay, so far we’ve done this—it's about touching in public . . . without anyone seeing.’  
  
‘Right.’  
  
They’d been doing it all day. It was as if reading the words forced Harry into action, because after he read about holding hands under desks, Harry’s hand found Draco’s on his lap. It was the one thing from that section they hadn’t done that day. Harry had even _innocently_ brushed dirt off Draco’s face.  
  
Harry shifted closer so that they both could read it—with their clasped hands under the book and their bent knees holding it up on their laps—as he moved on to the next section. _Sensual Touching in Private_.  
  
He wondered if the curse cared about the order of things. Tomorrow, Harry could grab Draco’s hand under a table somewhere, but that would be working in a past section. Then he rolled his eyes at himself thinking that a curse cared about anything.  
  
A moment later, Harry couldn’t think about anything, because Draco had begun to trace the edges of Harry’s finger nails and then said, ‘You’ll have to take off your glasses.’ Harry pulled them off quickly not even caring why. Who knew the tips of fingers could be so sensitive?  
  
The book was suddenly gone, and Harry was glad he couldn’t see the expression on Draco’s face. Harry was hard. Just from their fingers touching he was hard. After a quiet moment, Harry heard the book being set on the table and felt Draco shifting his position—turning to face Harry.  
  
‘Face me,’ Draco said, ‘cross your legs.’ There was barely enough room to do so, but Harry managed. ‘Close your eyes.’  
  
Harry did and then joked, ‘There isn’t much of a difference.’ Although, really there was. Without his glasses he could still see light and all the colours it brings with it; he could still make out Draco’s outline.  
  
Draco snorted and then his fingers brushed against Harry’s cheeks. _Oh_. Harry had heard about this before. Exploring your lover’s face with just your hands. He imagined what Draco must look like and then wondered what he felt like to him. Their fingertips touching was nothing compared to this.  
  
As Draco’s thumb moved over Harry’s lips, Harry asked, ‘How far does this chapter go?’  
  
His hands stilled. ‘Nothing below the belt.’  
  
‘But?’  
  
‘Pretty much everywhere else.’ Draco’s hands moved to Harry’s jaw. ‘We can stop after this section—’  
  
‘Yeah.’ If he didn’t get away from Draco, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last not grabbing him and going through the rest of the book in the next hour without reading any of it. ‘That’s probably a good idea.’  
  
‘Shhh,’ Draco said. ‘You’re not supposed to be talking; just touching.’  
  
The last thing Draco did before he let his hands fall from Harry’s face was tuck his hair behind his ears.  
  
Keeping his eyes closed he reached for Draco and found his arms first, and then he used them to help trace his way to Draco’s face. The point of this was to see your lover with your hands, or so the book said, but all it did was show Harry millions of places that sent chills through him.  
  
He knew what Draco looked like. He’d seen him often enough over the years. But starting with his nose, Harry felt every curve of his face. They didn’t feel pointy; he felt beautiful. Knowing the spots that were sensitive on himself, Harry avoided them on Draco at first. He moved from his nose to his forehead and then around his eyes and cheeks. When he moved to Draco’s jaw he could feel Draco’s breath hitch. Then Draco’s jaw went slack, making it were his breath tickled the tip of Harry’s thumb as he moved it over Draco’s lips.  
  
Fuck, he wanted to taste them.  
  
Harry pulled back, opened his eyes, and searched for his glasses. He wasn’t going to make it back to his dorm room; he needed a private place, a different private place that was far away from Draco. He was up and at the door when Draco spoke.  
  
‘You’re the one that wanted to do this!’  
  
Yes, yes he _was_ , but Harry was sure that Draco wouldn’t appreciate being shoved against the sofa and ravished at the moment, and as gay, virgin, teen boy Harry was losing his last bit of self-control.  
  
In the hallway, Harry ran as well as he could until he was out of breath. Ran until he was in a bathroom and had locked himself in a stall. He quickly undid his belt and thought of how he left Draco alone in the private room. He hadn’t checked to see if their session had the same effect on Draco, but he imagined it anyway. He imagined Draco ripping his trousers open and pulling out his erection as soon as Harry was in the hall. He imagined him stroking himself, like Harry was then, fast and hard and thinking of him. He imagined him coming and his come splattering all over his shirt, his hair, and his face; just like he was then.  
  
Harry caught his breath and cleaned himself up, and the thought about what Draco was probably really doing the room after Harry left him. Grabbing the book, slamming it closed and cursing Harry. Then getting up and—shit!  
  
Closing his eyes he pinched the bridge of his nose, before he ran back down the corridor. He’d left Draco alone in the Room of Requirement. He’d left him alone where one of his best friends had died less than a year ago.  
  
When he got back to the room Draco was in the corridor outside it walking towards Harry. They both stopped upon seeing each other. Harry searched his face, because he couldn’t read his emotions.  
  
‘Are you alright?’  
  
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Draco sneered at him and Harry knew then that he wasn’t alright, but he had no idea what to do about it. Draco hadn’t sneered at him all year.  
  
Harry glanced down the hall where the door had been and then back at Draco’s face. He’d dealt with a lot of death. Although the whole school was a constant reminder of the people he’d lost, he still had no idea how to act in this situation. If it were him, he wanted to be left alone. So he shrugged and turned around, but waited for Draco to catch up with him.  
  
After they’d been walking for a while Draco asked, ‘Are you alright?’  
  
Harry looked up in surprise.  
  
‘You’re the one that ran out of there as though death were at your heels.’  
  
Blushing, Harry looked away. ‘Yeah, um.’ Harry glanced down at his crotch and then away afraid that Draco might have caught him looking. ‘It’s just—’ There was no explanation except the real one, so Harry said it. ‘Look, Malfoy, I’m a virgin, I’ve never done anything like this with—’ What did it have to be so difficult. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just that he hated embarrassing himself in _Malfoy_. Even after all these years, he was still eleven years old and about to have his first flying lesson. It’s how Draco always made him feel. ‘Touching you, touching any boy probably would, but touching you makes me hard.’  
  
At some point they’d stopped walking. Draco’s arm brushed against Harry’s, and he took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Are you coming out to me, Potter?’ It sounded like teasing, but he wasn’t mocking him.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, but said, ‘I’m gay; I’m not trying to keep it a secret.’ Then because of the book, because he was pretty sure that Draco was too, he asked, ‘Aren’t you?’  
  
‘Not trying to keep it a secret or gay?’  
  
Instead of answering, because Draco knew what he meant, because Draco was most certainly keeping it a secret, Harry rubbed his thumb across the back of his in what he hoped was an encouraging way. Draco looked away from him.  
  
‘It’s getting late.’  
  
Disappointed, Harry nodded.  
  
They started walking again and Draco didn’t let go of his hand until they had to take separate ways, and Harry thought he could hold on to that for a while.  
  
  


#

  
  
Draco took deep slow breaths as he counted to ten. It would take a week for any curse breaker to make it. It was a highly specialised field and they were busy lot. At the rate they were going they’d be at the end of the book by then. He glared at Potter, who didn’t seem as upset by the news as he should be—of course he wasn’t, he was gay. And what had Potter wanted him to do with that information? He didn’t want it. They left Madam Pomfrey and in the corridor Harry tried to take Draco’s hand, but he brushed it away.  
  
‘You ruin everything!’  
  
Potter flung himself back as though Draco had slapped him.  
  
‘I thought we were making progress.’  
  
‘Progress. Towards. What?’  
  
Why did he have to be attractive, even when gapping like a fish. ‘Friendship?’  
  
‘As I recall, _Potter_ , you were the one that didn’t want to be my friend.’  
  
Rolling his eyes, he said, ‘Am I not allowed to change my mind?’  
  
‘Seven years later?’ Draco rolled his eyes and started walking again. He didn’t want to miss breakfast on top of everything else.  
  
‘I’m not the same person I was a eleven.’  
  
‘Right,’ Draco said, ‘You probably weren’t gay then.’  
  
That should have made Potter lash out, it would have two years ago, but instead he just sighed and shook his head at Draco. ‘I didn’t realise it then, but I was probably still gay.’ Then Potter did that annoying watching Draco thing—there were spells to read people’s minds, if he was so desperate to know what Draco was thinking he should get on with it already. He’d hate what he found; they both knew that.  
  
‘Come on,’ Potter said. ‘This isn’t that big of a deal. Someone will be here in a week, we’ll be free of it then. Every chapter has four sections. We haven’t even finished the first chapter yet—it has two more sections—and the next chapter is massage; that’s just more touching anyway. We can beat this; it won’t even be that hard.’  
  
Draco smirked at the word _hard_ and it made a blush cover Potter’s neck and creep onto his face. Merlin, he was easy. Draco was a virgin, too, but he wasn’t freaking out over just touching another boy.  
  


#

  
  
Okay, perhaps he was freaking out a little bit about touching another boy, but that other boy was Potter, so of course he was a little freaked out by it. Face touching was really not all that sexual. It depended on the person and what you were thinking about at the time—which said a lot of what Potter must have been thinking about before, and what he was probably thinking about right then as he stared down at Draco and lightly dragged his fingers up and down his arm.  
  
He couldn’t look at Potter and looking at the back of the couch was awkward, so he closed his eyes. It made Potter’s hands the focus of his thoughts, and that was not working. Classes, classes, what classes did he have that day? And why could he not think of the answer to such a simple question? Merlin, he was getting hard, and it was all Potter’s fault.  
  
Stupid Scarhead and his constantly following Draco around. So what if he was in the Restricted Section? He had a pass. And he wasn’t trying to bring back the Dark Lord or anything he was just—he was just—researching.  
  
Who knew collar bones could be so sensitive?  
  
Draco bit his lip to hold back a moan and then remembered that Potter was staring at him.  
  
Alright, fuck this taking turns business. Draco grabbed Potter’s arm—the evil one that was tracing patterns all over his body—then he loosened his grip and brought his hands up to Potter’s neck and then ear, tucking the hair behind it and trailing his fingers back down his neck, down his chest, down his stomach—  
  
‘Malfoy, what are you doing?’ Potter’s breath was shallow and his erection grew bigger as he pressed against Draco. ‘That isn’t going slow.’  
  
‘I’m just touching you.’ Draco slipped his fingers into the waistband of Potter’s trousers, causing Potter to freeze; Draco slowly trailed his fingers across Potter’s skin from right to left and back again, before moving on to Potter’s back. ‘Just like you are.’  
  
‘You were going to—’  
  
‘No, I wasn’t.’  
  
Potter groaned. ‘I thought you were . . . fuck, Malfoy. You’re a git.’ Potter dropped forward on top of Draco, their erections next to each other but not touching. Potter’s breathing was out of control and Draco couldn’t breath at all. ‘That was not the same and you know it.’  
  
Draco couldn’t tell much of a difference, but he didn’t want to admit to Potter how much of an effect he was having on him.  
  
‘I need to get going, anyway.’  
  
Potter pushed himself off of Draco and nodded. ‘Yeah, I promised I’d meet Ron and Hermione in the library.’ His breathing was getting back to normal, but he didn’t get up to leave.  
  
Shit. He didn’t want to risk running into anyone still hard. It wasn’t as late as it had been the last time they’d met. There would still be people in the halls. Potter wasn’t leaving him a choice—he stretched his legs and rubbed himself through his pants as though that would help the situation at all. It wouldn’t count as moving farther by just being in the same room with each when they did it, would it?  
  
Their eyes met and Potter gave him a questioning look. Draco’s hand had found his own belt, and he shrugged in response even though he was far from relaxed about the situation. He was slow undoing his trousers, so slow that even though Potter started to undo his belt long after Draco had he was a dozen strokes in before Draco hand made contact with his own prick. He watched Potter’s face as Potter stared down at Draco’s lap. He didn’t trust himself to watch what Potter’s hand was doing, but he could still see it’s frantic movement without looking directly at it. Potter didn’t have to touch Draco for him to feel his hands still all over him.  
  
Merlin, his face.  
  
They were supposed to be taking this slow. That was their plan. Just drag it out. There was no time limit. Neither one of them wanted this, right? Of course, Potter was gay, and prick was prick. And that’s why he was so focused on Draco’s lap where, despite trying to keep his in his pants, it slipped out and slid fast through Draco’s fingers.  
  
Potter was gay. That’s why simply touching Draco turned him on. That’s why he didn’t seem bothered by this whole thing in the first place. Why not take advantage of the situation? There were only seven known homosexuals in their age group and four were taken with each other, and the other three were from some reason not Potter’s type.  
  
Just because two people are gay didn’t mean they worked together; it didn’t mean they needed to be together.  
  
‘Okay?’ Potter was looking at Draco’s face then confused. ‘And?’  
  
Draco groaned and looked away. ‘And nothing—that’s all.’ But the interruption had been enough, and Potter’s hand was slowing down causing Draco to as well. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but he was glad he was. Even if Draco was gay, even if that were true, that didn’t mean that he and Potter had to do anything together, it didn’t mean they meant anything to each other.  
  
Potter kept quiet but he was watching Draco’s face, and it was making Draco uncomfortable. He stared back to prove he wasn’t intimated, only then they were staring at each other stroking their pricks and didn’t matter the distance that was between them, it still felt like touching. His skin prickled at the memory of Potter’s touch not that long before, and then his prick thought about how it would feel to have Potter’s hand on it instead of his own.  
  
And Potter was staring at him, watching it all, breathing hard and glancing between his eyes and his mouth, and Draco knew, just knew he was thinking about what it would feel like if they were kissing right then. Draco didn’t need to think about that, didn’t want to think about that, and didn’t have to think about that for another chapter, but he was thinking about it then and began to swear both because he was coming and at Potter, because it was all his fucking fault to begin with.  
  
‘You have really pretty eyes,’ Potter said.  
  
‘Don’t make me hex you.’  
  
Potter had the audacity to laugh at that, and Draco left the room angry. He was angry the rest of the night and angry the next morning, but it was Saturday. Saturday meant a Potter-free day. He needed the break and he intended to stay in bed all day reading his school books and working on essays.  
  
By noon, everything was blurry there was no way he could read another word.  
  
He tried to sleep, but woke up every fifteen minutes from one pain or another.  
  
Finally he decided to get some food.  
  
Potter was in the Great Hall, but Draco ignored him. Their tables were on opposite sides of the room, so it took little effort. He could tell he was there, because he had no trouble eating and the thought frustrated him. How many more days before the Curse Breaker would be there? Did they not understand how dangerous this was?  
  
Oh right, Pomfrey said they were adults, not children, and they should be able to handle themselves for a week. Well, she wasn’t the one being forced to make physical contact with someone she hated.  
  
With his head clear and his stomach full, Draco left the Great Hall quickly. He didn’t want Potter to try and talk to him. But the nausea hit him as soon as he made it to the corridor. He tried to walk to the nearest bathroom, but had to lean against the wall for support and then hand was on his back and on his shoulder. Fucking, Potter. He grabbed for his wand and jerked away from the hands spinning around to face—  
  
‘Pansy!’  
  
‘You look like shit.’ She had her hands in the air in mock surrender. ‘And you didn’t even acknowledge me in there.’ She nodded back to the Great Hall. ‘Are you alright?’  
  
‘No, I’m not alright!’  
  
‘Do you want me to help you to the—’  
  
‘She’ll just tell me to sit next to Potter.’  
  
‘In that case—’  
  
‘I don’t want to, Pansy.’  
  
She sighed. ‘Is it really that bad? And I’m not talking about the side effects, I can tell those are bad.’ She reached out to him, and he leaned against her.  
  
‘It’s Potter.’ How could she even need to ask that? They’d been best friends for years. She knew how much he hated him.  
  
‘And?’  
  
‘I’m going to throw up.’ But he saw Potter walking towards them, and he tried to stand up straight, to pretend that he was fine. Potter didn’t look fine either.  
  
‘What are you doing?’  
  
‘None of your business—’  
  
Potter shoved him against the wall and the nausea disappeared. Draco pushed him off and then it returned in full force, making Draco drop to the ground and pulling Potter along with him. Draco kicked him and then suddenly pain shot through his own leg, making it easy for Potter to shove him off. He remembered taking another swing at Potter, but nothing after that until—  
  
They were in the infirmary. The beds were only made for one person so someone must have enlarged the one they were in. Draco lay on his side. He could see their things piled on the floor, but not much else around the room without moving. Behind him Potter breathed in a soft rhythm in his sleep, his arm around Draco and his nose half under his neck. It was dark. Everyone was most likely asleep and he should be to, but he was uncomfortable. Potter was too warm in his sleep and it made it impossible for Draco to close his eyes and go back to sleep.  
  
Potter began to stir as well. He moved against Draco and Draco groaned. He was sore all over. It was quiet for a while as Potter woke up, took in his surroundings, and discovered that Draco was also awake.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Potter whispered into Draco’s neck.  
  
‘What for? I hit you.’  
  
He inhaled as though he was going to answer, but instead a moment later he simply said, ‘Are you sore?’ as he rubbed Draco’s back.  
  
‘A little.’ Draco was quiet as Potter rubbed circles in his back. He clearly had never rubbed anyone’s back before, it felt nice but did nothing for his soreness. ‘The next chapter is massage.’  
  
Potter stopped. ‘Yeah?’  
  
Draco looked over his shoulder to see Potter staring at their bags before he looked around for his wand and moment later he had summoned the book to him. ‘Roll over,’ Potter said, and Draco did. Draco gasped when Potter spelled his shirt away, but he didn’t protest. He propped up the book at the head of the bed, so they could both see it and then he threw a leg over Draco and sat on him. He was far enough back that his groin pressed against Draco ass, and the mere contact caused Draco’s prick to swell.  
  
Concentrating on his breathing, Draco closed his eyes and Potter started working on his shoulders.  
  
It was much better once Potter was taking directions from the book. It was a little painful when he hit the more tender spots. But even then it feel good at the same time. Draco could certainly get used to this. When Potter got down his lower back his thumbs went just into the top of Draco’s pants, and Draco went from half-hard to fully-hard, instinctively lifting his hips and pressing back against Potter.  
  
Potter leaned forward to whisper in Draco’s ear, ‘Payback for last time,’ but Draco couldn’t bring himself to care. With Potter no longer sitting on him, he was free to move beneath him and he twisted around to face him. Potter smiled down at him, and his eyes were wide with excitement. Draco pushed himself up on his elbows, watching Potter’s face as their lips inched closer together.  
  
Suddenly, Potter backed off. ‘My turn.’  
  
Right.  
  
Kissing was in the next chapter, if they kissed—Draco closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow. If they’d just do it, they could get through the book in one day. If they agreed it was just sex, then they wouldn’t have to let it drag out, they could wake up the next morning and be on their way, back to their own lives.  
  
Draco nodded. ‘Okay, roll over.’  
  


#

  
  
The next time Draco woke up, it was morning Potter’s arm was around him, but this time they were facing each other. When Potter was awake he was generally happy, but then in his sleep his face with pinched in pain. The opposite of what Draco’s world was like. Draco snorted at the thought. Even two people as different as they were turned out to have a few things in common.  
  
He didn’t know what made him do it, but it was most likely that he thought he could get away with it. Potter was sleeping and he didn’t stir when Draco pushed his hair back away from his forehead.  
  
The scar hadn’t changed from the first time he’d seen it on the train their first year. At least, there was no noticeable change in it other than slight fading as it stretched as Potter grew. To think this scar caused so much trouble, that for years it had held a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul. Potter had article after article written about him talking about the war and him telling everyone who’d listen what had happened, and how and why he was the chosen one, and how and why it never could have been anyone other than him—sorry, Neville.  
  
Draco lightly touched the scar. It was unremarkable. Just a scar. Maybe it would have felt different before the war. It was a good thing it was just a scar.  
  
‘Hello,’ Potter whispered.  
  
Draco pulledback, letting Potter’s fringe fall.  
  
‘Good morning, boys,’ Madam Pomfrey said as she came to check them over. ‘I’ve got some good news: the Curse Breaker will be here tomorrow morning.’  
  
‘Why?’ Potter sounded surprised, and Draco was too. On Friday, they’d been told it was going to take a week, and now they’d see the Curse Breaker on Monday?  
  
She gave them a stern look. ‘It suddenly became a higher priority.’ She shook her head at them, after a couple more spells she said, ‘You seem to be alright now. Can you try and stay out of trouble until tomorrow, please? One day isn’t much to ask, is it?’  
  
They nodded, got dressed, and were released soon after. Harry followed him for a few paces, so Draco stopped. ‘What?’  
  
‘Nothing.’ Potter shovelled his feet and then finally just walked over to Draco. ‘It’s just . . . fast I guess.’  
  
‘That’s a good thing, Potter.’  
  
‘I know, Malfoy, it’s just—’ Potter stepped closer and licked his lips.  
  
Draco took a step back, but Potter was determined and second later his lips were pressed against Draco’s. It only took a second. Then Potter pulled back, searched Draco’s face for something he must not have found, because he said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ and turned and walked away.  
  


#

  
  
Even though Draco wasn’t in any pain that night, he still slept awful. Why did Potter have to go kiss him like that? One, it forced them onto the next chapter if the curse did act up, and two, they could have got out of the curse without kissing at all!  
  
The meeting with the Curse Breaker the next morning really didn’t help at all.  
  
‘What do you mean willing?’ Draco asked. They’d been in the middle of a fight; there was no way either of them could have been willing when the curse took effect, unless the curse accepted any attraction as willingness.  
  
‘Generally,’ the Weasley said, ‘there's always exceptions, and it could be that the curse wasn’t willing started you have been willing participants in it since then. At least, one of you has.’  
  
Draco glared at Potter.  
  
‘Although, once again, generally you’d both need to be willing.’  
  
‘What would be the point of such a curse?’  
  
‘It’s not a curse, it’s a charm, and well, again generally it’s used as a promise.’  
  
‘Like the Unbreakable Vow?’ Harry said.  
  
‘Not as severe, but yes that’s the general idea. I can’t say what the person who put the charm on this particular book was thinking, but considering the book it probably had something to do with coming out. It’s an old book and though being homosexual isn’t a big deal it still makes you different. Not everyone wants to go through life being the odd one out.’  
  
Draco could feel Potter’s eyes on him, but he refused to look back at him.  
  
Madam Pomfrey broke the silence that lingered after. ‘Will you be able to remove the charm?’  
  
‘I’m afraid not today.’  
  
‘What!’ Draco said. ‘Why not?’  
  
‘Because it’s not a curse to break, it’s a charm. I don’t know the counter charm or if there even is one. Not all charms are easy to back out of, especially ones that have willingness needed to take effect like this one does. Some times, as with the Unbreakable Vow the whole point is that you can’t back out, so there would obviously never would have been a reason to have a counter charm. I might have to come up with it on my own, which I can do but it will take time.’  
  
‘We don’t have time—’  
  
‘Well, there is another way that would have you free by this evening.’  
  
Draco perked up at that until he saw the smirk on the Weasley’s face. ‘You’re both of age; you could just finish the book. It’s not that long and you’ve both been willing so far.’  
  
‘Merlin’s balls, holding hands is different than . . .’  
  
‘Of course, then you wait.’  
  


#

  
  
‘In what world is you snogging your crush helping me out?’ Draco loved Pansy, he really did, but some days he wanted to strangle her. He was dealing with the _Potter business_ just fine all on his own, and he didn’t need her interference. And he certainly didn’t need a room full of people watching them kiss.  
  
She huffed and said, ‘It has nothing to do with that.’ Except it had everything to do with that. ‘If everyone else is kissing people they normally wouldn’t, then there will be less people to focusing on that you and Potter are kissing.’  
  
‘We _aren’t_ kissing. We’re cursed, but that will be fixed soon. Before we were going to have to kiss.’ She was pushing him into doing something he wasn’t ready for.  
  
‘It’s just a game; it won’t mean anything, and it will help the curse not attack you again.’ She glared at him, and he glared right back. He wasn’t going to let her make him feel guilty about it. He was fine; they weren’t in risk of dying; at least, not then, not yet. ‘Everyone will be there, if you don’t go then—’  
  
‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘I’m just not grateful for _all the work you put into it_.’  
  
Anyway, it didn’t matter. They’d already kissed. She just didn’t need to know that. Nor did she need to know what all was in the book or that there even was a book, what all the curse involved, or anything else on the matter, because until he’d confided in her about what landed in him in infirmary no one in the school knew he needed to kiss Potter to begin with.  
  
People were asking questions, she’d said, about why he and Potter were spending so much time together. And even though he’d already told her they were cursed to have to be close to each other, the answer was no longer satisfying to her. So he let her know that they might have to hold hands sometimes, that it might progress to kissing if the Curse Breaker didn’t hurry the fuck up and do his fucking job already.  
  
‘Do you think you two can hold it off until Friday?’  
  
It was Monday evening and they hadn’t been able to get through a whole day without pushing things forward onto new chapters, but he nodded anyway because she didn’t need to know that.  
  
Surprisingly they didn’t push it farther and the curse didn’t backlash against them. Draco kept his temper in check and Potter used what they learned in chapter one to steadily make contact with him throughout the day and they were fine.  
  
When Potter felt a tingling in his arm, he’d find Draco and rub his back nudge their feet together under a table or just simply sit next to him. So Draco didn’t have to do anything, except remind Potter that they weren’t friends when they accidently laughed at something together, or stop Potter from kissing him or taking things too far.  
  
If they both got hard, then Draco would run. It was the only thing that worked. Luckily there was school work to focus on. They’d spent so much time messing around the first few days after the curse they were both behind, so now that they were less turned on by simple touches—holding hands and the like—they could study at the same time as making physical contact.  
  
Friday arrived without them exploring the kissing chapter any further.  
  
The game Pansy chose was Spin the Bottle, but what better way to get people kissing?  
  
Everyone was shy at first, so Pansy started and surprise, surprise, the bottle landed on Longbottom. Of course Pansy rigged the game. Just as Draco expected it was all about her getting to kiss her crush without announcing to the world that he was her crush in the first place.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes at her. She was Slytherin to the core. Everyone had their embarrassing crushes. Blaise had the Weasley girl. Nott had some Hufflepuff girl. And even Crabbe had Goyle, who was oblivous and to their knowledge had no interest in anyone. Pansy had always found Longbottom’s clumsiness adorable, which was why it bothered her so much and she couldn’t stop herself from teasing him about it. It was that weird thing about crushes where when Longbottom tripped it was as though Pansy was tripping along side him.  
  
Pansy took her time with the kiss and shocked everyone by using tongue and having the kiss last longer than a minute. Longbottom’s mouth was still agape after he spun the bottle again and Su Li kissed him quickly and ran back to her spot.  
  
It took half an hour before the bottle landed on him, and it was Longbottom after having another long tongue-filled kiss with Pansy. She must have gotten jealous with all the other girls he’d been kissing that night. Since Longbottom was once again stunned silent, Draco spun the bottle on his way over to him. Potter was right next to him anyway, and then he wouldn’t have to move across the circle of people twice.  
  
The problem was that Potter was right next to him. Watching. So even though it was quick—just as quick as when Potter had kissed him—it caused Draco’s face to heat up, remembering their kiss from before and that they were about to share another one.  
  
He was so sure that it would land on Potter that when he pulled back from Longbottom he leaned toward Potter, but he stopped when Potter—looking behind Draco at the bottle on the floor—laughed.  
  
‘Su Li,’ Pansy cheered. ‘That has to be the sixth time tonight!’  
  


#

  
  
‘You didn’t fix the game?’ Draco asked once they were alone again in their own common room.  
  
Pansy shook her head. ‘No, why would I do that?’  
  
‘I thought the whole point was to get Potter to kiss me.’  
  
‘No,’ Pansy said. ‘The whole point was . . . to take the attention off you and Potter having to kiss. Merlin, Draco. How would you kissing in front of everyone help that?’  
  
Draco didn’t have answer, so he simply scowled instead.  
  
Pansy smirked at him. ‘If I’d had known you wanted to kiss him, then I _would_ have fixed the game.’  
  
‘I don’t want to kiss him.’  
  
And he didn’t. It was just that Potter had left with two of the girls that he’d kissed that evening and that was _not_ okay. He didn't know why it angered him so much, but it did and before he really thought about what he was intending to do, he told Pansy he was going for a walk and he’d see her later.  
  
He went back to the Hufflepuff dorms’ entry and walked the direction he’d seen Potter go earlier. Draco heard laughter coming from a picture of fruit and then he remember that was where the kitchens were. It turned out they hadn’t gone far at all. He tickled the pear and saw them, laughing and talking, drinking hot apple cider.  
  
They didn’t notice him at first, but slowly—first Potter and then the girls, Draco thought they might have been sisters—turned to look at him.  
  
‘He’s gay, you know.’ Three shocked faces were staring at him, but it didn’t stop Draco. ‘He isn’t interested in you. You’ll never have what he wants.’ The three shared a look a then the girls set down they mugs and excused themselves with, ‘We’ll see you later, Harrry.’  
  
Harrrry. He hated when girls did that. Just say the fucking name.  
  
‘What are you doing?' Draco asked once the door closed behind them.  
  
‘We were just talking! And why would you even care? You hate me, remember? I ruin everything for you, remember?’ Of course the most important of all. ‘We’re not together! Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we have to be together—you said that.’  
  
‘I said hypothetically two people who were gay—’  
  
‘Are you gay? Or at least bi?’ Potter was angry. Draco thought he really didn’t get angry anymore. Even when they were fighting and got themselves cursed by the stupid book he hadn’t been angry, more amused. ‘There is no point in this conversation if you’re not interested. Are you interested?’  
  
Draco didn’t answer. He just started at the still hot mugs wanting to make them explode, and then suddenly: they did.  
  
Potter jumped back. Then he was really angry. ‘Fine. Don’t talk, clean up your own mess.’ He went to leave, but Draco grabbed him. Potter wasn’t supposed to kiss those girls, he was supposed to kiss _him_. There was no reason for Draco to go to that stupid game just to watch Potter kiss other people. Curse Pansy and her stupid games. Curse Potter for making him feel betrayed in the first place.  
  
He grabbed Potter, who didn’t fight back, so it made it all the more easier to kiss him.  
  
To kiss him just like how Pansy kissed Longbottom. Long, hard, and with tongue. Until Potter was left with his mouth agape. And then Draco ran, because that hadn’t been part of the plan at all.  
  


#

  
  
When Harry first realised he was in love with Draco Malfoy, he did nothing out of the ordinary. He stared at him across the Great Hall like he always had before. He worried about what he would say to him during their next class or when they meet in the halls like he always had before. He grumbled about Draco to his friends like he always had before. The only difference being that now he knew _why_ he did all those things before.  
  
Harry watching Draco for his reactions; to see if he might like Harry as well. But, as he had always watched Draco, all he learned from it was that he watched Draco much to often. He learned nothing new about Draco. Nothing new at all except that you couldn’t stare someone’s sexuality out of them.  
  
So Harry wasn’t really angry at Draco’s hot and cold moods but at himself, because Draco was right it was all Harry’s fault.  
  
He couldn’t stare at Draco and figure out his sexuality, but apparently Draco also couldn’t answer that question himself.  
  
When Harry left the kitchens Pansy was in the hallway, her arm cross over her chest, leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face.  
  
‘He kissed me and ran; I don’t know what’s going on.’ How could he? He’d think that Draco was just as attracted to him as Harry was attracted to Draco, but then he’d push him away, start fight with him again.  
  
‘Hmmm, well, he didn’t come back to the dorm.’ She looked much too satisfied with herself considering the status of things.  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
‘Honestly, do I really need to spell it out for you, Potter? You’ve been chasing him for how long now?’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Chase him!’  
  
‘He doesn’t want me, Pansy.’  
  
‘Oh, trust me, he does. He just has problems admitting when wants anything. It’s easier to go after things you don’t want, because then it doesn’t hurt when you lose them.’ When Harry didn’t answer she added, ‘I’m his best friend would I really steer you in the wrong direction?’  
  
‘You’re also a Slytherin,’ Harry pointed out. She might just because it would be fun to humiliate him.  
  
‘Good thing for you.’  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. She was trying to help him win over Draco. As least she was claiming to. He thought for a moment about where Draco might be before he remembered that he could find out easily and nodded to Pansy before running to get his map.  
  
When he couldn’t find Draco on the map, he knew that Draco was in the Room of Requirement. He had no idea how he’d get in the room or if he’d have to wait Draco out, but he headed there anyway. The wall was solid when he got there, but after walking back and forth down the hall about seven times—not thinking about anything in particular except wondering what Draco was doing inside the room—a door appeared.  
  
‘Hello?’ Harry pushed opened the door, but didn’t see Draco right away. It was the private room they’d met in before, except this time it did have a bed. A few steps in he saw him on the couch, laying down, holding the book to his chest, staring at the bed. He didn’t respond to Harry’s entrance nor to his presence when Harry sat on the floor near to Draco’s head.  
  
After a moment, Harry tried again, ‘So . . .’ but had no idea what to say. How could he kiss him like that and run? Why did he kiss him in the first place?  
  
‘What do you want?’ Draco asked.  
  
Harry scoffed. ‘What do _you_ want? You’re the one that can’t make up their mind; I’m pretty much in the same place I was when this all started.’  
  
‘And where exactly is that?’  
  
‘Maybe a little bit attracted to you.’ Harry shrugged.  
  
Draco looked away from the bed to Harry. ‘You were attracted to me before?’  
  
It wasn’t an accusation, but it still felt like one. His neck and then his face burned with shame from what he did to Draco. He was willing do anything and everything in that book with Draco, and he had been when it opened during the fight. That’s why the charm worked, that’s why Bill couldn’t get the charm off. Not when one of them was willing.  
  
‘Is that so crazy?’  
  
‘A bit, yes.’  
  
‘But you just kissed me—with tongue which—’  
  
‘I know it pushes us to the next chapter.’ Draco looked over to the bed again. ‘I’ve been thinking. It wouldn’t be too horrible, you know?’  
  
Harry’s jaw dropped, was he suggesting?  
  
‘It’s Friday night, we have a couple free days, and that Curse Breaker is right—it’s a small book really, it wouldn’t take that long, and we could move on. We’re not children.’  
  
‘Are you sure you want to?’  
  
Draco sighed. ‘Well we might as well finish out the chapter we started as least, but our old plan isn’t really working. The more we draw it out the more we fight and the more dangerous the curse becomes.’  
  
‘The charm,’ Harry corrected.  
  
‘The curse.’  
  
‘The charm.’ Harry smiled. ‘So you’re suggesting to . . .’  
  
‘Just not stop because the chapter does, because we know it will force us on to a new one . . . just stop when we want to. If we finish it, then we finish it and if not we don’t leave frustrated and angry each other.’  
  
‘I wasn’t upset with you, sexually frustrated yes, but angry no—’  
  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
‘So the bed?’  
  
‘I suppose I must have been thinking about the later chapters.’  
  
Kissing could be done on the sofa. Really it all could be done on the sofa, but the bed would be more comfortable. But moving to the bed was almost like committing to it and Harry didn’t want to be the one to make that move. They would be there if it weren’t for him.  
  
Draco was staring at Harry’s lips, but Harry wouldn’t move. He waited and waited and Draco gave up waiting on Harry to take the hint and leaned in himself. It was a slow kiss that time, once again Draco introduced their tongues it wasn’t a fight like it had been before.  
  
Harry pushed Draco back against the sofa and moved to climb on top of him, but Draco stopped him.  
  
‘Let’s go to the bed.’  
  
‘Are you sure?’  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
On the bed, Draco sat on Harry’s lap, kissing him. Kissing for what felt like hours, but Harry felt as though he could never get tired of kissing Draco.  
  
Harry had needed some reassurance he wasn’t going after someone who would never be interested in him. That was really why he did it. If Draco wasn’t gay then, he’d leave him alone. If Draco wasn’t gay then, he’d have no reason to go after the book.  
  
He pulled Draco closer and slipped the tips of his fingers inside the top if his pants, causing Draco to moan into the kiss and press his quickly hardening prick against Harry’s already obvious erection. Draco’s hand slipped into Harry’s hair, and Harry figured that was invitation enough and he slowly worked on undoing both of their belts.  
  
Draco had to voluntarily go looking for the book, but he needed to know it existed to begin with. Harry hadn’t planned on Pansy. Pansy came to him. She called him out on his staring and his, apparently, drooling. She said Draco was so far in the closet he didn’t even know he was in there. She’d moved on from him years before, but he hadn’t noticed. He’d hardly noticed they were together to begin with. She offered anything she could to help wake her friend up. Harry never knew Slytherins worried about each other, but she said he was her first love and Harry could understand the loyalty that brought on. Unrequited or not.  
  
When Harry pressed their erections together, Draco broke the kissed and dropped his head to Harry’s shoulder. He was gasping for air, and Harry’s chest tightened at the sound of it. He wasn’t going to last for long. Draco’s breath tickled Harry’s neck and then his lips were there, kissing and sucking and making Harry lose his rhythm as he stroked them together.  
  
Hermione had found the book for Harry after he came out to her. She’d read it until he had it memorised and every description he dreamed he did with Draco. He tried at first to picture different blokes, but it was never as satisfying. He always ended up coming back to Draco. She had no way of knowing what he’d end up doing with it.  
  
Draco was close. His moaning turned into Harry’s name. ‘Potter,’ he groaned at first, and then ‘Harry, Harry, Harry.’  
  
He found the charm himself. He made sure that it required the participants to be willing. You couldn’t back out, but you had to want to be part of the agreement to start with.  
  
It was hearing his name that did Harry in. He’d never heard Draco say it before without a sneer and mixed with the tone of his voice by the third Harry, he started coming, all over his hand and then all over Draco’s chest. The thought of which made him come harder with the next stroke, when Draco joined him. He hadn’t even known that was possible.  
  
Pansy had slipped the information on where to find the book to Draco.  
  
He kissed Draco as they slowly caught their breath. ‘You good?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Draco said with a small laugh. ‘You?’  
  
‘Yes,’ and then he asked, ‘Are you good for the night?’  
  
Draco kissed Harry hard again as his breathing was steady again. ‘I think I could do another chapter, but I’m . . . satisfied . . . if you want to stop.’  
  
Draco knew exactly what was in the book before he picked it up.  
  
But so did Harry.  
  
And Draco could never find out.  
  


#

  
  
Although they hadn’t finished the book that night, Draco went to Madam Pomfrey and let her know that they wouldn’t be needing his services after all. They were adults, even if they were in school, and they handled it themselves. He tried not to be weirded out by her congratulations.  
  
After finding out what the charm was, Draco read what he could find on it. The whole week before the party Pansy set up. There wasn’t much about it, except that the Weasley person was right. Someone had to be willing and it worked the best if both the people were willing.  
  
He never wanted to admit to himself that when he searched out the book he’d been envisioning Potter. That Potter following him back into the Restricted Section was a wet-dream and a nightmare all at once. That he was just as willing as Potter to flip through the book cover to cover and do everything it instructed.  
  
But he never wanted to admit it because he knew, simply knew that Potter hated him. That he’d never be willing. That he’d be horrified if he ever found out.  
  
Pansy was horrible at keeping secrets.  
  
And Draco loved her dearly, even if sometimes he wanted to strangle her in spite of and because of it.  
  
This was not one of those times, because the Gryffindor fool who thought he could pass as Slytherin was naked in front of him. He was nervous and shaky and hard and it was Draco’s dreams come to life. The one he deny having for years. The book was opened beside them turned to the chapter on oral sex techniques and Harry glanced between the pages and where Draco was lying, waiting for him. He licked his lips and leaned over his prick.  
  
If they hadn’t spent the last couple weeks teasing the hell out of each other, and the last couple days with their pricks all but glued together, he’d already be coming just from that sight alone.  
  
Harry had sex like he did everything else, even when there was instructions right next to him. He dove in head first and hoped for the best. He took all of Draco’s prick in his mouth and began to gently suck, and then he looked up to watch Draco watching him.  
  
Draco had known he was gay forever. That was never Draco’s problem. His problem was that he never wanted anyone to ask him too many questions about it. He’d always felt he was too obvious with his affections toward Potter. Potter was all he talked about to the point that his father complained about it as far back as his second year; everyone complained about it. He simply couldn’t help it.  
  
He didn’t talk about Potter half as much as the thought about Potter.  
  
It wouldn’t take a genius, once they found out he was gay, to figure out why he cared so much about what Potter did.  
  
But the way that Harry was looking at him then, made all the rest no longer matter. Once Draco was close to coming, Harry pulled back. They weren’t stopping at this chapter tonight. Harry came up and straddle Draco but stayed on his knees. He was already hard, but he teased Draco’s mouth with the tip of his prick until Draco opened his mouth wider and kissed it, licked around it, and sucked on it as Harry pushed it farther into his mouth.  
  
Draco moaned and it surprised him. It surprised him how much he enjoyed the weight of Harry in his mouth. There were certain activities Draco alway knew he’d enjoy. Just thinking about Harry’s head between his legs, his mouth working on Draco’s prick got him hard. But other things Draco had to experience himself before he craved them. Like him being propped up on pillows while Harry slowly fucked his mouth, always slowly.  
  
He could feel Harry getting close, so he pushed against his thighs ever so slightly.  
  
Harry held on to the headboard to steady himself, and then he slowly lowered himself down onto Draco’s lap while Draco held his prick steady until it was completely inside Harry. Draco held onto Harry’s shaky body as he kissed him, waiting.  
  
‘I-I can’t move,’ Harry whispered. ‘I need you to.’  
  
Draco’s hips began to move before he had made the decision for them to; slowly like the way that Harry like to fuck Draco’s mouth. Draco was torn about which sensation to concentrate on: Harry’s mouth moaning against his own, his hand clawing at Draco trying to bring him closer and even closer still or Harry’s ass clenching around his prick as he moved in and out of him.  
  
It was all too much at once.  
  
And Draco knew that he was lucky to have Harry, regardless, but he was also lucky to have a Gryffindor that ran headlong into things without much thought even when they were pretending to be Slytherins. Draco knew Harry was the one to charm that book.  
  
But Harry never needed to know that.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

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